


i wish i was just as strong as i make myself out to be

by thecomputerguy



Series: bird songs gone wrong [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Feels, Denial of Feelings, Emotionally Constipated Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Homelessness, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Misunderstandings, Producer Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Seoul Underground, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Underground Dancer Kwon Soonyoung, Underground Rapper Kim Namjoon | RM, Underground Rapper Min Yoongi | Suga, jihoon is everyone's little brother, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22060726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecomputerguy/pseuds/thecomputerguy
Summary: jihoon never expected his mom to throw him on his ass.he never expected to end up in a sketchy district in the heart of seoul.he never expected to find a new home in seoul's underground scene.but here he is.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi, Lee Jihoon | Woozi/Lee Seokmin | DK
Series: bird songs gone wrong [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1205023
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25





	1. we were born sick, you heard them say it

**Author's Note:**

> work title from: toothpick - stand atlantic  
> chapter title from: take me to church - hozier  
> warning - homophobia ahead. please read with caution. (and a touch of child abuse but not dwelled on)

Jihoon certainly didn’t expect himself to end up where he was - side of the street in a pretty sketchy district in the heart of Seoul, his entire life on his back. It’s not like he had wanted to end up here,especially with no stability of anything anymore. (At his weakest moments, he found himself missing the warmth of his house, and even his mother. Then he’d remember the fury shining in her eyes the day she threw him out and he pulled himself together.)

\--

Jihoon had been young and naive and finally found himself a place that he felt like he belonged. His friends knew he was gay and quite frankly didn’t care, and his boyfriend had even been a part of his friend group. Jihoon later found out that his coming out only allowed the hope to grow in both of their hearts (him because of the positive reaction to the whole situation, and his crush because he actually had a chance), and both were ecstatic to find their crushes weren’t unrequited. His friends had even pushed for the pair to get together, calling them adorable and doing their best to shield the pair from any homophobia they might have encountered. It was a beautiful few months - he couldn’t have asked for a better end of junior year and start to senior year - until his mom found out. 

He should’ve known she was smart enough to put two and two together, with all the “projects” he was working on a clear red flag to her. Sure, he thought that she might have sensed something was up, but he didn’t expect her to trail him one day and find his boyfriend’s house. He couldn’t even deny it as she saw them kiss each other goodbye, Jihoon ready to make the trek home when his eyes met his mother’s. He swallowed, noting the fury in her eyes before he walked over to the car where she had beckoned him with a finger, but in that moment it looked more like a claw. The car ride had been eerily silent, and Jihoon knew it was only a matter of time before she exploded. They had barely even crossed the threshold of the house when her fury was unleashed, and Jihoon suddenly feared for far more than what he had foolishly believed to be just a scolding. He had never seen her so angry before, and he wasn’t sure where her limit was anymore on what she’d be willing to do. Looking back, he wasn’t shocked that she had shattered one of those tacky vases he always hated from the mantle, it exploding near where he had been standing. A few shards had managed to knick him, but there was no significant damage from the event, much to his relief. He had never been more grateful for someone’s shit aim and his decent reflexes then in that moment.

The slurs she had used, along with the insults that picked at his most insecure parts that only she could know, even the hurling of a vase at his head, had broken something inside him that day. He later would recognize it as his ability to trust shattering, but in the moment Jihoon could only feel the betrayal and the utter defeat and fear that came with his disowning. The image of the fury in her eyes, how it felt as though she was towering over him as she told him he was a disappointment and dead to her, had been ingrained into his memories and haunted him beyond just his nightmares. The vase exploding behind him felt worse than anything he had ever experienced before as the event appeared in almost every dream he had for at least a year. Running to his room, he covered his mouth to hide his sobs, gathering everything he’d need to survive and stuffing it into a duffle bag. After packing his school bag and swiping at his cheeks, he took a final look around the room before leaving the house, his mother nowhere in sight. He was ever so grateful that she didn’t care enough to see him one more time, and do anymore damage.

Honestly, he hadn’t expected her to throw him out so  _ ruthlessly _ , so  _ suddenly _ , and so  _ mercilessly _ either, almost as though she hadn’t been phased by his heartbroken expression and tears racing down his cheeks. In that moment he wasn’t even her son, he had realized, just a monster that had taken his place. Realizing that she would probably never forgive him for being who he was is what hurt the most.

He’d practically been on his own ever since.

His mom’s boyfriend Changrui was the only thing that kept him around for a bit. Changrui was a gentle soul, bursting at the seams with kindness and knowledge, his Korean coated in an accent that made Jihoon simply adore him further. He had an ex-wife back in China, apparently a daughter too, but she had never let him see the girl. Jihoon figured that for Changrui he’d do anything to see his daughter, and probably thought Jihoon’s mother was being foolish for letting her son go over what he saw as nothing. Jihoon had no idea how Changrui’s gentle soul could survive not only dating but living with his monstrous mother. 

When Jihoon raided his home for necessities like clothes and money and sometimes even food, Changrui always left him notes and extra money, and always random things like trinkets showing his support. They were always hidden in places that his mother wouldn’t notice, inside jacket pockets or drawers, something just slightly off about the location for Jihoon to find it but to be ignored by his mother. Whether it be a jacket that suddenly moved places in his closet, or a drawer that was just slightly ajar, Changrui was smart enough to hide them well. From what Jihoon knew, his mother never found out about the little gifts that Changrui left for him, or even found out he made frequent trips back to their homestead, and he was forever grateful for that. Those gifts meant so much to him, told him at least someone cared about him enough to help him however they could. 

To be honest, Jihoon cried every time he found one.

He responded each time to each note, using that same gentle tone that Changrui always wrote him with. Even if he knew he was pressing time limits, his mother due to be home from work or church soon, he always crafted his notes with such precision and clean characters so that Changrui didn’t have to try to decipher his hand-writing  _ and _ his slang. At that point, he’d do whatever he had to to reassure Changrui, even if that meant he had to leave through the window to avoid his wretched mother.

He had barely graduated high school, sleeping on various people’s couches and sneaking into his old house, as it was no longer his home, for supplies until he finally made it to the ceremony. He left Changrui a note and a ticket, tears filling his eyes when he spotted the only person who’d really stuck it through with him during this entire process. (Even his boyfriend that essentially got him kicked out, though Jihoon only blamed himself, had dumped him soon after, too guilty about Jihoon’s situation. His friends were about the same, filled with guilt that they had caused the entire situation. He didn’t bother telling them where he was going after graduation.) They both knew, after that ceremony, that the hug they shared would be the final one for a long time, if not forever. Jihoon forced a smile and did his best to hold back his tears, Changrui doing the same. 

The following Monday while both his mother and Changrui were at work, Jihoon snuck back into his room for the last time. He grabbed what he figured he’d need for the rest of his life, a bus ticket to Seoul tucked securely in his back pocket. He wrote Changrui a final note, letting him know where he was going and that he was probably never going to make it back to the  [ sandy beaches ](https://www.quora.com/What-is-it-like-to-live-in-Busan-Korea) and beautiful peaks of Busan. He was sure Changrui knew the odds of Jihoon living on his own, he was smarter than Jihoon could ever hope to be, but still he told him to keep an eye out for any unidentified bodies that seemed to pop up. He could never be sure that his wasn’t going to be the next one pulled from the Han, and he at least wanted Changrui to know what had happened, the wicked witch that was his mother be damned. 

With one last glance at his life and the security he once knew, he made his way to the bus station. He secretly hoped his mom would look for him one day, but he had a feeling deep down that the next time they’d see each other, one of them was bound to be in a wooden box. Jihoon’s money was on himself.

\--

Jihoon’s arrival to Seoul felt as anticlimactic as it could have been. Stepping off the bus and taking in the terminal around him didn’t feel invigorating as he hoped it would have. Instead he felt a sinking feeling fill his chest and he sighed, gripping his backpack straps as he set off into the city. He found a homeless shelter pretty quickly, but as he saw the line of those poor unfortunate souls who were like him he sighed once more. He carefully approached someone towards the beginning of the line, tapping the woman’s shoulder to get her attention. She looked at him before her expression fell, and Jihoon figured that she had a feeling of why he was there.

“Excuse me,” he started softly, aware of how childish he sounded. The woman nodded, her face soft and sad. Jihoon forced himself to pushed past the lump in his throat and carried on, ignoring the glares from the people that were assuming he was trying to cut the line. “But do you know how many beds they have compared to how long the line is?” The woman only looked even sadder somehow, shaking her head at him.

“You new around here?” The man behind her asked and Jihoon just nodded at the pair. The man sighed and the woman looked as though her heart had shattered.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” the woman began, and Jihoon’s heart sank into his shoes. “This isn’t the greatest shelter around, it got bugs last week and I’m certain they’re still in there, but you still need to be in line by 4:30 to hopefully get back in, and even then it’s hit or miss. A few hypothermia vans should be going around tonight, and they give out blankets. Find one of them, ‘cuz it’s just not worth this line.” Jihoon nodded as the man spoke up.

“I’m guessing at least a few of the other shelters are full, I’ve watched this line double while we’ve been waiting. But a few of them also have some outreach people, especially in the winter. They’ll try to get you a bed somewhere if they find you, especially if you’re a kid.” Jihoon nodded once more, forcing a smile onto his face. 

“Thank you for the help, I hope you two get in.” With a wave Jihoon walked off, making sure he was out of sight of the shelter before he let out the breath he had been holding and even let his shoulders curl in on themselves. He knew how cold it was going to be that night, and he could only hope to find one of the hypothermia vans, maybe even one of those outreach people if he was lucky enough. 

\--

Jihoon paused in front of a warehouse, trying his best to stop his teeth from chattering so loudly. As the sun had set the cold really began to sink in, and the freezing wind cut through his jacket like a hot knife slices through butter. Trying to set up shop late in the day in a cold hearted city during the freezing heart of winter was probably the worst thing he could have done, but hindsight  _ is  _ 20-20 and all that. He began to think through his options, trying to remember the alleyways he had seen that might have a bit more protection from the elements when a voice called out from behind him.

“Ay yo Gloss!” A voice called out in English, and Jihoon ignored it in favor of wondering if the cardboard boxes next to the dumpster he saw a few blocks earlier would keep him warm enough throughout the night.

“Stop ignoring me bitchass,” the voice said from behind him, and Jihoon looked around. There was no one else but him around, so he assumed that whoever was behind that voice was mistaking him for whoever this “Gloss” was. He turned around, raising an eyebrow at the other man now behind him. He was taller than Jihoon, enough that he had to tilt his neck to fully see his face, instantly irritating him.

“Sorry, but I don’t know who ‘Gloss’ is.” The man’s eyes widened comically before they began scanning the horizon with a questioning gaze. His eyes finally landed back on Jihoon, an eyebrow raised.

“What’re you doing out here by yourself kid?” Jihoon shrugged, ignoring how this man who only seemed a year or two older than him at most had called him a “kid”. He knew he had somewhat of a baby face and his height certainly wasn’t helping his case, but his irritation only seemed to grow. He forced himself to breathe before he responded, not wanting to anger the man.

“Shelters are full,” he muttered, eyes down on the sidewalk. “I’m trying to figure out where to go for the night.” He listened as another pair of footsteps approached him, and he turned to see another man walking towards them with an inquisitive expression on his face. At least for the newcomer he didn’t have to fully look up in order to talk to him, which Jihoon took as a win.

“Sup Runch?” The man said, his eyes not leaving Jihoon’s tiny form. The other man, Runch he figured, blinked before turning to face the newcomer. 

“Nothing, I just thought the kid here was you, seeing how he’s standing in front of the venue and shivering his ass off.” The shorter man rolled his eyes, seemingly ready to fight the other on that remark before he decided not to. Runch raised an eyebrow at the other man, seemingly having a silent conversation with him, before turning back to Jihoon.

“You got anywhere to go tonight?” The newcomer asked, and Jihoon shook his head.

“He said the shelters were full,” Runch said lowly, the other man nodding in what seemed to be understanding.

“You need a place to crash for the night? I heard there were gonna be record lows this week…” Jihoon bit his lip, considering the offer. He knew nothing about either of these men, but the only alternative to the couch he had been offered would probably leave him dead by the morning. He looked up at them between his eyelashes, praying that he wouldn’t tear up in the moment.

“I don’t have a lotta money to give you,” Jihoon spoke softly, ignoring how his voice cracked, his eyes flitting back towards the pavement.

“We’re not gonna make you pay kid, goddamn,” the shorter man muttered, pulling out a pack of cigarettes before lighting one and taking a deep drag. 

“I just don’t wanna inconvenience you.” Jihoon’s voice was barely heard over the howling of the wind, the two men looking at each other before nodding, Runch beginning to speak. 

“Look kid,” he said, his voice soft almost as though Jihoon was a wounded animal, “You’re not inconveniencing us, and we  _ want  _ to do this. We have a gig in a few, so why don’t you come in and hang out for a little bit, if for nothing else to just get outta the cold for a few hours, okay? Then, if you’re up to it, you can come back with us to ours. We’ve been where you are right now, and trust me when I say trying to handle Seoul winters by yourself is the quickest way to get a ticket to the hospital. So whaddaya say?” Jihoon sighed, but nodded anyway, ignoring the relieved expressions on both of their faces. 

“C’mon kid, we’ll even introduce you to our people,” Runch said as the other took a few more drags of his cigarette before stamping it out. Jihoon then followed the pair to the back of what seemed to be a warehouse converted to some type of club. It only seemed decently full, with people milling about and drinking and seemingly having a good time. There was music playing in the background, but the stage was dark and empty.

“What kinda gig do you guys have?” The unnamed man shot him a shark’s smile, waving at the bartender as they lead him to the back of the building.

“Well kid,” he eventually began as they entered the back room, Jihoon struggling to take everything in at once. “I’m guessing you’ve never been to the Underground.” Jihoon shrugged, still trying to take all of it in, looking at each person hanging around and even studying the few chairs and couch they had in the room.

“I’ve heard of it, of course. Busan doesn’t really have much of one, though.” The man grinned once more, turning to find Runch somewhere in the area.

“Ay yo Runch!” The aforementioned man turned, an eyebrow raised. “Kid’s from Busan, so you know what that means.” Runch just sighed and turned back to do whatever he was doing before. 

“M’from Daegu,” the man said, an almost familiar satoori flavoring his words. Jihoon felt himself smile, his first real one since he arrived in the city.

“So you two rap?” Jihoon said, bringing back the original conversation. The other just shrugged.

“Among other things, yeah. After the whole Gloss versus Runch Randa shit blew over and we became friends, not like the scene really knows that, we started coordinating these shows and shit. We produce too, usually for ourselves but sometimes we sell tracks. Why? You interested?” Jihoon shrugged, trying but failing to ignore that he had just been pseudo adopted by the biggest pair of rappers in the underground.

“ _ You’re  _ Gloss?” The other man just laughed, and Jihoon ignored it in order to answer the man’s,  _ Gloss’s, _ earlier question. “I mean, I would produce back in high school, yeah. I wouldn’t mind doing it again, especially for cashflow. I’m kinda on my ass these days.” Gloss laughed quieter this time, almost as though he could relate to Jihoon, but his smile was still wide.

“You any good?” Jihoon just nodded. “You sure?”

“I mean, I dunno man, I’d like to think so. I post sometimes on SoundCloud, though I doubt you’ve heard of me. M’Woozi.” Gloss’s brows shot up as he pulled out his phone, opening the app and pulling up Jihoon’s profile. A pair of headphones were produced from one of his pockets and he stuck one in his ear, pressing play on the most recent upload. Jihoon watched Gloss’ expression carefully, the rapper easily ignoring Runch’s yells until the track finished. When it had finally played through, he looked back up at Jihoon with an appraising smile. 

“We gotta get your name out here kid. You won’t be on your ass for long.” He looked as though he was ready to go on when Runch stalked over, huffing at him.

“Thanks for making me do all the set up myself, asshole.” Gloss just smiled at him, a rather unkind one at that, and Jihoon could see how they had the scene fooled into thinking they were only business partners, for a lack of better terms. 

“Thanks for joining us  _ Randy _ ,” Gloss said with a bit of a sneer, throwing a wink at the other. Runch’s ears seemed to be steaming, his annoyance and maybe even anger thinly veiled, but poorly at that. “Turns out kid’s got a pair of ears on him, his tracks are even better than yours.” Runch took a deep breath before he lashed out at the shorter rapper, instead turning to Jihoon with an inquisitive look adorning his features. 

“You’ll have to show me later, dipshit here and I have a show to put on.” Jihoon just nodded, finding a couch to sit on while the pair ran the night. He thought he saw the pair go to introduce the night and Gloss as the first act, Runch reappearing as the music began. Of course Jihoon knew who the pair was, but hearing Gloss live had to be something insane compared to hearing him on a recording. The way the crowd was surging, he bet Gloss was putting on a show he could only wish to see one day. He listened to each of the rappers go on, some certainly better than others, some with just no skill or even a shitty backtrack, the hope of becoming a well known producer growing in his heart. Some of the kids on stage could  _ definitely _ use his help, he figured. At one point while Jihoon was listening and judging the current performer’s sloppy skills and even sloppier track, a man walked up to him, his eyebrow raised in obvious question.

“You supposed to be back here kid?” Jihoon just shrugged at the man, assuming he was another one of the rappers either due to perform or already had gone on. 

“I’m with Gloss and Runch.” The man raised an eyebrow at that, the corner of his lips tilting up.

“ _‘Gloss_ _and Runch’_ , huh? Well if they want you back here then there’s nothing _I_ can say about it.” The man mimed a lewd action, and Jihoon forced himself to breathe. He hated what the man was implying, but he wasn’t sure how to fight the other and not get his ass tossed on the street. He sighed internally and bit his tongue, resolving that if he was ever in a more secure place with both his life and his career, he’d fight back against pricks like this.

“Nacseo!” Another man yelled from the other side of the room, easily making his way to the pair of them before throwing his arm over who Jihoon assumed to be Nacseo, a shit eating grin on his face. “Sorry kid, is my baby brother bothering you?” He asked and pinched the other’s cheek like a grandmother, causing Nacseo to slap his hand away and sneer at his supposed brother, slipping out from under his arm. 

“Fuck off,” Nacseo said with anger in his tone, and the other just laughed. 

“Please forgive the  _ fussy wiw’ baby here _ . I’m Wisdom, and this is Nacseo. He doesn’t always play well with others, isn’t that right?” Wisdom punctuated his words by giving Nacseo a noogie, the younger’s expression turning more feral by the second.

“Woozi,” Jihoon said with hesitance, earning a grin from Wisdom.

“So whatcha doin’ back here kid?” 

“Gloss and Runch already spoke for him,” Nacseo said before Jihoon could open his mouth, his words laced with something akin to jealousy. Wisdom just gave him an appraising stare. 

“You rap then, kid?” Jihoon just shook his head. Both brothers looked confused at that, Nacseo eventually picking up where Wisdom had left off. 

“Then you produce?” Jihoon nodded simply, watching as Nacseo pulled out his phone and raised an eyebrow at him. “You on SoundCloud or something kid?” At Jihoon’s nod Nacseo opened the app, finding his profile with ease. He turned to his brother with his hand held out and a silent question in his eyes, Wisdom rolling his eyes and sighing as he pulled out his headphones and handed them over.

“Kids these days,” he said to Jihoon, before accepting the earbud from his brother. The pair stood in silence for a bit, every now and then glancing at Jihoon and sometimes even nodding. When the track seemingly stopped, Wisdom let out a low whistle. 

“Too bad you’re already spoken for, kid. I’d love to work with you if you ever end up with openings,” he said with a wink, turning as Runch made himself known.

“If you stop being a seedy prick then he might actually  _ want _ to work with you, dickweed.” Wisdom just laughed, Nacseo nodding at Runch in greeting. Runch turned to Jihoon, a look of concern carefully passing through his eyes. “You good, kid?”

“Yeah, fine. It’s not like I haven’t been dealing with dickheads my entire life.” The brothers made faces at each other as Runch chuckled under his breath, his expression becoming much more relaxed.

“Alright kid, just lemme know if you need me. Wisdom, you know you’re on in like three, right?” Wisdom cursed and waved at them, hustling towards the other side of the room that lead towards the stage where all the techs and manager of the event were. Runch shook his head and followed, leaving Nacseo and Jihoon alone. 

“How’d you even end up here?” Nacseo eventually asked, pulling a bottle out of what seemed to be nowhere. He offered it to Jihoon but the other just waved it off, Nacseo shrugging before taking a sip, then proceeding to sigh heavily as he threw himself onto the couch next to Jihoon. He raised an eyebrow at the other boy, prompting him to go on.

“I got kicked out ‘bout a year ago. Finally got my ass to Seoul today. Runch found me outside weighing my options.” Nacseo clicked his tongue, taking another sip of his bottle.

“Why Seoul? Why today? Shouldn’t you have waited for the warmer weather?” The look that Nasceo shot him seemed almost motherly with how much concern he managed to show on his face alone, as his voice remained monotone more than anything. Jihoon looked out in the crowd, somewhere in the back of his mind acknowledging someone new beginning to rap on stage as the crowd got louder. He managed a shrug before he could finally speak past the lump in his throat.

“I finally graduated. I couldn’t couch surf in Busan any longer, and there was nothing keeping me there anymore. I was done haunting the place.” He saw Nacseo nod out of the corner of his eye, the bottle he was holding held out towards Jihoon once more. Jihoon sighed and took it, taking a large swig before handing it back, doing his best to keep his face neutral. He didn’t need to have the scene think of him as any more of a baby, especially if this is where he was going to find some new friends, maybe even a family.

“If you ever need a couch, no matter the reason, Wis and I will always house you.” Jihoon just raised his eyebrows at the other, Nacseo chuckling at the look. “Hey, I might come off as a bit of an ass, but you’re  _ good _ . Plus, a buddy of Runch is a buddy of mine. So, if you ever need a couch, the assholes sexile you or something,” Jihoon couldn’t help the sharp laugh that escaped him, Nacseo grinning at him, “You find me or Wis, alright?” Jihoon just nodded, a lighter feeling in his chest than before. Having options comforted him, especially when he could ignore the guilt beginning to build in his heart. 

“I will, don’t worry.” Nacseo just sighed before he took another swig, swiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Can’t have kids on the street. It’s no place for them.” Jihoon sighed but nodded anyway, his eyes on the floor.

“No, it’s really not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everybody!  
> i wanted to get this up before the new year, so here we are!  
> this is the first time i'm posting a fic i haven't finished, so please bear with me.  
> i'm so excited to write this!
> 
> also as a key:  
> nacseo - woo jiho/zico  
> wisdom - woo jiseok/taewoon  
> runch randa - kim namjoon/rm  
> gloss - min yoongi/suga


	2. i'm proof of consequences and exhausting common sense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> seoul isn't as cold as jihoon expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from "royal" - waterparks  
> playlist one - [i wish i was just as strong](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2PnvJ06fi31JFvIgVbOegA?si=qzxM8lcURjCrv1--wrTWjA)  
> playlist two - [as i make myself out to be](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1hhDTaANCcWZ4Ueyc7CL0w?si=jWVda6cIS0K6M1K2iMD0fQ)  
> from what i remember there is some internalized homophobia that makes itself known this chap as well as some p prevalent mentions of social anxiety, so please stay safe <3

Walking to Runch and Gloss’ place after the gig was almost torturous for Jihoon. The rappers were both at least somewhat tipsy, and Jihoon was sure that if they hadn’t been taking him in that night they would have been long gone (like how Wisdom and Nacseo left the joint laughing and stumbling in the other direction, but not before Nacseo slipped a piece of paper with an address in Jihoon’s hand, the gesture punctuated with a wink).

Since he had gotten warmer in the club, walking back out into Seoul’s harsh winter air made him want to cry. His jacket barely did anything at this point, and he could practically  _ feel _ the freezing air seep into his hands through his pockets. The way he could feel the cold radiating off of them was almost commonplace to him, but the way his joints were stiffening at a rapid rate was something morbidly new. He felt as though he had built an entire snowman without gloves on, and when he dared to pull them out of their pockets to take a peak at them they were tinted blue. (Sure, his hands turned funky colors at times while they were cold to the touch and they were freezing more often than not, but still seeing his fingers resemble that of a hypothermia victim shook him to his core.) It made him reconsider his move to the city, where he barely knew anyone and trusted even fewer. If he was already looking like a walking corpse on his first night, who was to say where he’d be within a week?

“You good kid?” He looked up to find Gloss looking back at him with concern, a lit cigarette hanging limply from his lip. Jihoon just nodded in response, studying how the embers glinted in the cold air. Just watching the way it bobbed and weaved with Gloss’ lips, following his words and breath, made him itch for a pen in a way he hadn’t since he first kissed his ex. Pushing his Gay™ thoughts aside, he realized Gloss was still expecting an answer. 

“Peachy,” he muttered, finally dragging himself out of his thoughts. Gloss rolled his eyes and nodded his head towards a building on the other side of the intersection they were stopped at, waiting for the light to turn. 

“Apartment’s right there, so you can warm up soon and everything.” Jihoon wondered how transparent he was, his confusion apparently showing on his face because Gloss laughed. “Your teeth are chattering.” Jihoon only noticed the second it was pointed out to him, and he felt his cheeks warm in embarrassment as he snapped his jaw closed so forcefully he heard a click. Gloss just laughed again.

“Are you giving the kid a hard time?” Runch asked, finally looking up from his phone, his eyes a bit hazy. Jihoon shook his head adamantly as Gloss barked out yet another laugh, Runch rolling his eyes at the two of them as he led them across the street. 

Runch pulled out his keys and slid one into the front door, a smile lighting up his features. 

“Now, it’s not much, and we don’t have a spare bed,” he started, pulling the door open and inviting Jihoon inside. “But we do have a pretty comfortable couch that has done its time for half the kids in the scene.” Jihoon nodded at Runch’s friendly smile, walking into the apartment building and holding back a sigh when he felt the heat hit him. He absentmindedly followed the pair up the stairs as he remained peacefully in his own world, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them until he could feel his fingertips again. Once he had mentally recovered, he began looking around the apartment that he found himself in.

Gloss and Runch’s apartment wasn’t what Jihoon expected. Looking at the two presumed twenty-something year olds who were beyond well known on the scene, Jihoon had sort of expected a decently messy apartment, but not a very big one at that (he’d almost expected them to share a studio or something, or recording equipment to be scattered around). But instead he found them with a rather spacious living room connected to a kitchen that looked as though it hadn’t been touched in forever. Most of the place was decorated with a monochromatic palette, and considering what he knew of the two rappers he decided it suited them. Though it wasn’t in the best location, and the building itself didn’t seem to be  _ too _ classy (Jihoon saw no guards or doormen of any type but it did have a locked front door so that randos off the street couldn’t just wander in), the space itself  _ had  _ to have cost a pretty penny, even if there was no elevator and they were on the fourth floor. Jihoon wondered what other jobs the pair had to be able to afford the place, or whether one of them had grown up with a silver-spoon in their mouth. (Realizing there were four doors down the hall, and assuming one was a bathroom and the others were bedrooms made him more likely to bet on the latter option.)

“Surprised kid?” Gloss asked with a hint of amusement in his voice, and Jihoon just shrugged. 

“Expected something smaller, messier maybe.” Gloss just laughed, his eyes twinkling. 

“Oh please, I might get a little messy but I know how to clean up after myself. Unlike  _ someone _ ,” he said pointedly as Runch made his way towards them, rolling his eyes. 

“You forget to clean the coffee pot  _ one time _ …” He muttered under his breath, ignoring Gloss as he turned back to Jihoon with an expectant look on his face. “If I order, what food do you eat?” Jihoon just shook his head in response, only continuing when the others made it clear they weren’t taking that for an answer.

“I’m all good, don’t worry.” He ignored the concerned gazes of the two rappers easily, praying that his stomach didn’t betray him. He couldn’t really afford take out, not if he was trying to stretch his cash beyond its limits. He also couldn’t afford to have them buy for him, the pair already giving up space and privacy in their own home so that he could have a roof over his head. If they bought dinner for him he knew that he’d be  _ drowning  _ in the guilt of it all. At this point, their pity was already overwhelming him, and after living off of people’s pity for a year while he tried to graduate Jihoon couldn’t manage much more. He felt like he was suffocating from it, like it had already filled up his lungs after first forcing its way through his nose and mouth, sufficiently choking him out and ruining any attempts he had to catch his breath. 

“You’ve got no allergies, right?” Jihoon just raised an eyebrow, suspicious of what Runch was planning. “I just wanna know if I eat like pad thai or something in front of you that you won’t drop dead. One of the kids who likes to hang around the scene, oh God help me what’s his name?”

“Vernon,” Gloss said, eyes never leaving his phone.

“Right, right, it’s Vernon. You’ll like him,” Runch rambled on, turning back to Jihoon. “Cute kid, gonna grow up to be absolutely stunning if you ask me, looks like a young DiCaprio - ya’know, the Titanic guy,” he added, sensing Jihoon’s confusion (he made a mental note to google who that was later), “even younger than you, at least I’m pretty sure. But anyway, kid’s so allergic to nuts the smell alone can get him sick. So, are you gonna die on us?” Jihoon snorted at the image his mind supplied him with the description given, a tiny twelve year old with bangs in his eyes that were permanently wide with awe.

“Nah, not that I know of.” Runch offered him a smile before turning to Gloss, debating with the shorter what they should get. Jihoon began looking around again, for a lack of anything else to do and not feeling comfortable enough to fully invade their space beyond where he was. Eventually Gloss gestured for him to sit at the table with him, Runch having disappeared in the back of the apartment.

“So kid, I shouldn’t be too busy tomorrow if you need a tour or anything,” he said in a nonchalant manner, picking at his cuticles casually. “I can also reach out to some people I know and see if they need help with tracks or anything. Yah know, start to get your name out there.” Jihoon sent him a small smile.

“Thanks for that Gloss. It’d be nice to have someone on my side again.” He rubbed at the back of his neck as he felt a blush creep his cheeks, Gloss nodding accordingly. He looked up as Runch began to speak, peeking out from the hallway with a towel draped over his shoulder. 

“Either of you need the bathroom real quick? I’ma go shower.” Both of them waved him off, Runch shooting them a mischievous smile. “Food’ll be done in like twenty, if you wanna pick it up. After all, they’re calling you.” With a wink and a cackle at Gloss’ extravagant curses, he headed towards the bathroom with an ease in his step. Jihoon looked back at Gloss, noting how the other still hadn’t stopped cursing and how he had moved on from idly picking at his nails to aggressively biting them. Jihoon’s head cocked on its own accord, watching as Gloss pulled out his phone more aggressively than needed and began furiously typing. The phone in Gloss’ twitching fingers reminded Jihoon of his own, digging into his bag to pull out the device. He turned it on and watched in a bit of dull horror the hundreds of notifications flood in. 

“Somebody’s popular,” Gloss said with an air of an offhand remark, still absorbed into his own phone. Jihoon felt his eyebrows raise, never once tearing his eyes from the device. “You okay kid?” Jihoon looked up to see Gloss’ concerned expression, forcing himself to give what he hoped to be a reassuring smile (although he had a feeling it looked more like a grimace than anything). 

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Gloss didn’t seem to believe him, but let the subject drop completely, still aggressively typing on his phone. Jihoon stared a little harder at Gloss in consideration, before he decided to bite the bullet and ask the simple question. Afterall, diversion was a tactic yet to fail him. “Are  _ you  _ okay?” 

Gloss looked up startled, his hands stilling on his poor phone’s presumed keyboard. His eyes widened before they narrowed once more, Jihoon passing whatever test the other was administering behind those terrifying eyes, before they finally relaxed.

“I’m alright,” he shrugged, looking back at his phone as it vibrated before he let out a heavy sigh. “Runch knows I’ve got some pretty bad social anxiety, so he tries to help by ‘exposing me to my triggers’ or whatever whenever he can. He does it in safe environments, and I appreciate the gesture, like I really do, it’s just hard.” Jihoon nodded as Gloss rubbed at his face. “It’s worse on show nights or when we’ve gone out, it’s like the more people I see the worse it gets. If that makes sense?” Jihoon nodded. 

“Would it help if I came with you to the restaurant?” At Gloss’ questioning look Jihoon shrugged. “It’s the least I could do, afterall you’re letting me crash on your couch.” He seemed to consider it for a minute before nodding.

“Yeah kid, that’d actually be, I mean,” Gloss sighed again, pressing his fingers into his face to the point the skin blanched beneath them, “Thanks kid.” Jihoon just sent him an easy smile, finally stealing himself to sort through the messages on his phone. 

The first chat Jihoon opened and skimmed was one of his high school friends, the group planning an excursion before they went their various ways. A few of them had been prompting him to respond, one of them theorizing that his mom finally cut off his data. Though it flooded his heart with guilt, Jihoon let it be, hoping that when he was in a better place he would reach out to them. The next few chats were private chats from the same group message’s occupants trying to reach him, and he decided that leaving them unread wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Next was a chat from a friend of a friend who actually was in Seoul, a guy who went by Bumzu and always had an ear to listen to one of Jihoon’s works. He hadn’t even told the other that he was coming to Seoul, too worried his mother would catch wind and stop him for some wild reason. He considered telling him, but instead just sighed and asked Bumzu if he wanted to grab coffee sometime soon. 

The final chat filled him with dread, his pseudo step-dad’s contact lit up with new messages. Hesitantly, Jihoon clicked on it.

Panic. It was obvious that panic had seized Changrui, his Korean messy and a bounty of missed calls plugging up Jihoon’s poor log. The most recent message hadn’t been sent too long ago, and Changrui seemed to have calmed down a bit compared to earlier. It said that he had hoped Jihoon was smart in his planning, and that he hadn’t run off to the city with nowhere to go. He continued saying he would do his best to keep Jihoon’s phone on as long as he could, and that he hoped he could find a better life in the city. He had finished the message with a declaration of love and the hope of meeting in the future.

Jihoon left him on read. 

\--

His trip with Gloss to grab food was about as mundane as it could have been, the pair walking mostly in comfortable silence. Neither really felt the need to break it, nor did Jihoon have any idea  _ what _ to say. He didn’t even know Gloss’ name, how was he supposed to make  _ small talk _ with him? Let alone the fact the other was a living legend, Jihoon just found himself stranded and lost in a sea of thoughts. Gloss seemed more than happy to leave him there. 

They made their way back to the apartment with ease, the warmth of the building wrapping its arms around Jihoon in a welcoming manner again. Once inside the apartment and after greeting Runch with more than a few colorful words, Gloss began to unload the bag of food, eyebrows raising at one of the soup containers. He turned to Runch with a questioning look, the other just smiling and shrugging. 

“Had a deal for free haejangguk if you bought japchae, and you know I was already getting two servings.” He turned to Jihoon then, smile still wide on his face. “Feel free to have one! Otherwise it’ll just go to waste.” Jihoon squinted at him, not sure if the other was just trying to slide him food sneakily, or if he actually didn’t want to keep the leftovers. Gloss scoffed at him, but Jihoon’s stare didn’t waver.

“Honestly kid, I don’t really eat leftovers and dumbass over here just broke the microwave, and he’s been banned from the stove so knock yourself out. Mr. Picky won’t eat shit cold.” Jihoon only looked at the other with more confusion, Runch laughing and rubbing at his neck in embarrassment. 

“I don’t even know how I broke it, it just kinda did. Plus our friends will  _ kill me  _ if I break the stove too. It’d be like Caesar all over again.” Gloss shrugged, when Jihoon looked at him, hunting for his takeout containers before heading towards the couch. 

“If you’re still around Friday, we’re having some of our buddies over. Hope might be able to help put your name out on the other parts of the scene we don’t really have much sway in. Asshole’s pretty well known with the street performers and shit. Didn’t really know or care that the underground has dancing competitions until I met him.” Jihoon just nodded, carefully taking his soup from Runch’s outstretched hand. 

“I hope I’m outta your hair by then, but thank you both so much, both for the offer and for everything you’re doing. I don’t know what I would’ve done on my own.” Okay, that was a lie. But hey, he didn’t know if the dumpster he would have camped behind would be home to a number of questionable other people, or if it would do anything to help keep the wind off him. The other two just sent him genuine smiles.

“Hey,” Gloss said, no longer looking at Jihoon but instead staring to eat. “Runch picked you up. Means you’re his,” Gloss jerked with his chin, “responsibility. Which also means you’re part of the family. Merry Christmas kid.” Jihoon spluttered at the odd remark and Runch just shook his head. 

“You can ignore him, I promise. Just finish your soup and ignore him.” 

Jihoon didn’t have to be told twice.

\--

Little known fact about Jihoon: sleep and he weren’t always friends. Sometimes they weren’t even acquaintances. Sure, there had been that time that he had slept twenty hours straight, but that was before the dreaded day that his mother had put his ass on the curb. Ever since that nightmarish day, he’s had trouble both falling and staying asleep. Having slept in places that may or may not have been illegal, Jihoon learned to sleep lightly in fear of being caught or harassed. He also found it hard to sleep in a place that he didn’t know well, noises in the night waking him up randomly and practically any sign of movement triggering his flight or flight. 

He stayed curled up on Runch and Gloss’ couch for the night, doing his best to keep his eyes closed and fall asleep. He only really ended up with a brief nap, time that slipped out of his fingertips like silken grains of sand, both flowing smoothly but biting at his skin as it went. He only knew that that hour or so of sleep actually even happened because he fell asleep listening to music he had saved on his phone and woke up far enough down on his playlist to suggest his short slumber. After that he never really got back to sleep, instead passing the hours daydreaming about how his life could have been different had he been born “ _ normal _ ”.

It felt even more depressing than it sounded. 

Sighing once more as he felt his mind spiral down a path of no return, he looked towards the window and watched as the sun began to rise. A little bird - a coal tit, if he remembered correctly - outside the window continued to happily chirp at him, and Jihoon felt himself crack a smile at the scene. It was one of the most peaceful things he could remember seeing in such a long time, and watching the bird jump around the branches so cheerfully as it sang made his heart feel warmer than it had in what felt like centuries. He watched as a friend joined the first, the pair frolicking in the branches before disappearing from sight. He felt his heart yearn as they did, before he smacked at his chest in annoyance. It was a pair of  _ birds _ for fuck’s sake, it wasn’t like they were actually his longterm companions. He didn’t have any of those afterall. 

He flinched when he heard a door open, followed by a loud yawn and footsteps in the hall. He tried to ignore the almost deafening sound of one of his hosts peeing, turning up the volume of his headphones and softly humming along with the tune. He turned them back down from their ear splitting volume once he heard the faint signs of a flush, the sink going and the unmistakable sound of someone brushing their teeth filtering through the apartment. He closed his eyes in faux relaxation and listened to the other man’s morning routine, water turning off for a few minutes before it turned back on, splashing sounds making their way throughout the apartment’s still morning air. He listened as whoever it was made his way into the kitchen, coffee being made in what seemed to be the quietest way it could be. Jihoon appreciated the gesture though he couldn’t fully enjoy it, instead stretching his back and popping his shoulders to relieve them of their morning stiffness, both of them aching despite the fact he hadn’t really slept. He sat up as the smell of coffee tickled his nose, sending Gloss an exhausted smile over the back of the couch. Gloss furrowed his eyebrows at the younger, his cup of coffee held territorially by his face as though he were ready to swat at anyone who went near it.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Jihoon just shook his head, pausing his music and pulling out his headphones.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Gloss made a noise of acknowledgement as he sipped at his coffee. “Why’re you up? I thought you were off today?” 

“Got a text from the kid who was supposed to work the morning shift. She’s got a stomach bug or something, so I’m covering for her. No one else could.” Jihoon just nodded. Gloss moved towards the couch as Jihoon settled himself onto a considerate amount of space, the pair sharing a small smile. “Sorry to bail on you today, but feel free to spend the day here or come back tonight. Couch’ll still be here.” Jihoon shot him a smile.

“Don’t worry about it. I think I’m just gonna spend the day feeling the place out. I think I might know a few people around these parts, so maybe I’ll try to find them and see what they’re up to.” Gloss smiled softly at him.

“As long as you’re careful about it, who am I to complain.” They fell into a companionable silence until Gloss had to leave and get ready for the day. Jihoon changed, shoving his pajamas on underneath his jeans, glad that they were baggy enough to hide the extra addition. He then layered up on his top half too, groaning as he realized that the weather app had predicted snow. Shaking his head at his bad luck, Jihoon packed his bag and settled his wavering soul. It wasn’t too  _ too _ late for him to turn back, high tail back to Busan and pretend that he had never left, but he had tasted freedom. He no longer felt stuck in the monotony and drowned by pitying looks that filled his hometown to the point of bursting, but instead he felt almost insignificant. He could go days without running into anyone he knew, could hide himself away in the anonymity that came with the cold capitol, he could live without ever being defined to almost strangers on the street. The feeling of being unknown and free from pity and guilt and shame welled up inside him until he felt like a balloon animal, filled and stretched to the perfect amount before being contorted into whatever he wanted. In a significantly better mood than he had been an hour ago, Jihoon smiled at Gloss and followed him out the door, waving as they parted ways on the street. In Seoul, Jihoon was just another kid trying to make it, and he wouldn’t change that for the world.

\--

Around noon Jihoon found himself rethinking his newfound freedom. The snow was heavy in the air and the wind was whipping his poor frozen skin, his stomach settling uncomfortably on top of everything else going wrong. He really considered going back to the bus station and buying a ticket back to Busan in defeat when he met his saving grace.

It was the same woman from the day prior, the one with sympathy weeping from her form as though she couldn't fully contain it when he had asked about the shelter. He hadn’t realized it until he walked into her, stumbling over his apologies as he helped her gather the things she had dropped. He finally recognized her once he looked back up to give her her items, her voice low and panging with something akin to guilt.

“Oh, hello there.” Jihoon forced a smile, trying not to look too uncomfortable from the exchange. “Did you find a place to go last night?” The genuine concern in her voice startled him - he couldn't tell you the last time someone had talked to him like that, sans the night prior. Even then, he was sure it was different for the two rappers who had seen more than they were obviously willing to mention than it was for the woman before him that could have so easily been his own mother. Jihoon stamped down on the yearning of affection inside of him and forced himself to straighten up and answer her question.

“Yeah,” he choked out, clearing his throat before trying again. “Yeah. Ran into a coupl’a guys who took me in.” She made a face before smiling at him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Have you eaten?” He was startled by the question but didn’t have the heart to lie to the woman, simply shaking her head. Her smile only grew as she gestured to him to follow her, her eyes never once showing anything more than a simple fondness. 

“I was on my way to the soup kitchen when I ran into you,” she said softly, her voice horribly kind. Jihoon didn’t know why it made him want to scream. “I’ll show you where it is and we can both get a good meal. It’s too cold for us out here.” She began walking and Jihoon felt no choice than to follow her. 

“Thank you for the help,” he said softly, not glancing in her direction. She let out a soft laugh, one that was both humored and bitter in a way that Jihoon didn’t know how to place it without knowing her better.

“If I stop helping people, what will I become? The same as the rich who leave us here to die?” Jihoon didn’t have an answer to that, walking beside her in a shared silence. She led him through the winding streets, waving at people she knew in the same gentle way she had spoken to Jihoon. 

“What’s your name?” He asked suddenly, unsure as to why he had let the words fall from his lips but unable to take them back. “I just…” He trailed off, the words to explain the almost instant bond he had felt with the woman or his necessity to be known by someone lest he be entirely forgotten not coming to him. Instead he shrugged, smiling at her sheepishly.

“You can call me Sanghoon,” she said with a wink, Jihoon’s brows knitting together on their own accord as she laughed. “Not everyone keeps their name around here,” she offered as an explanation, and Jihoon had no other response than to shrug. He had done the exact same thing - who was he to judge? “What do you want to be known by, son?” Jihoon offered her a conspiratorial smile.

“Woozi, if it’s all the same to you.” They made their way in relative silence after that, Jihoon feeling the vines of kinship circling his heart. The silence was only broken by Sanghoon a block off of their destination. She handed Jihoon a paper with an address on it, her eyes constantly watching who was around to witness the interaction.

“If you ever need a place to stay,” she started simply, her voice low enough that Jihoon felt the wind would sweep it away in a moment’s notice. “Go to this address. Tell them you’re friends with Sanghoon and they’ll set you up with a spot. It’s yours for however long you want it. Just,” she looked around again, her voice dropping even lower, “just keep the door locked and your things packed. You never know when you have to run in a squatter's village.” Jihoon finally understood, nodding at her warning. He placed the paper away safely in his lyric book, the pair only moving once it was secured in the bottom of his bag.

“Thank you,” he murmured, Sanghoon just waving him off. 

“Don’t mention it.” And with that, they hurried towards the Onnuri building, greeted with only a short line. It wasn’t very long until they were finally in the building and out of the cold, Jihoon’s creaky bones practically sighing with the warmth. Jihoon was sure that his cheeks were redder than a tomato as he felt the heat sear into his tender skin, and he was sure with his overall ruddy looking appearance he would be seen as younger than ever, but he couldn’t let him bother him. Instead, he found himself just happy for the warm meal with limited strings attached he was about to be offered. 

Jihoon found himself in front of a boy who looked about his age, his features soft and kind, the cross in his ear catching the light. His face fell before he smiled again, though it seemed overly forced to Jihoon. He handed him a tray with his serving on it and directed him towards where someone else of a similar age was handing out waters, Jihoon bowing slightly in thanks. After receiving his tray and his drink Jihoon sat himself down at a table, smiling at Sanghoon before tucking in. It wasn’t worth it to let the food get cold over meaningless attempts at being polite, he figured. Though he hated it and it made him almost physically sick, Jihoon knew that relying on others’ pity and good will was all that was going to get him through the season. Once the cold had been chased out by the heat of the summer his options would easily multiply, and while the heat may end up brutal he shouldn’t have to worry of dying from hypothermia on nights he can’t find shelter. Not allowing himself to linger on the negatives, he found himself planning on how to free himself from the clutches of Seoul’s streets by the following winter, a smile lingering on his face. Though it would be absolutely awful, and more times than he would ever admit he would debate buying a bus ticket home, Jihoon had no doubt that his musical ability may just as well be his savior. With a new found rigor in his mind, his head filled with hope that he couldn’t find it in himself to crush, Jihoon finished his meal as slowly he could, observing the conversation at his table and the familiarity of which the guests spoke. While Jihoon felt himself long for the sense of community that they had, he also was not so foolish to yearn for a place in the community that he was present in. To consider these people his best friends and to be able to speak so casually with him also meant being a known entity on Seoul’s heartless streets. He hadn’t been lying to Nacseo when he agreed that the streets were no place for kids, and he wasn’t so naive to claim himself above the title. After finishing his meal and his water, worried that he was overstaying his welcome, Jihoon followed his fellow patrons to the dish return and bowed at the people serving once more, idly noting that they weren’t the same two boys that had been there when he had first arrived. Instead an auntie wished him good luck in the cold, something Jihoon accepted with only a faint blush, curling into his coat and redying himself for the freezing wind to make itself known once again. He was checking the time and debating if he could bear another night on Runch and Gloss’ couch when a voice to his left startled him.

“Hi,” It said softly, but close enough that Jihoon wasn’t sure how he hadn’t seen whoever it was approaching. With a palm on his chest he forced his breathing to even out, grateful that he hadn’t yelped or even shrieked from the terror that made home in his blood. He’d really have to get better at being observant, now more than ever. Turning, Jihoon raised his eyebrows at the sight next to him, the two boys who had been volunteering inside looking at him sheepishly.

“Can I help you?” He asked plainly, wondering what the pair could want from him. The boy with the longer hair spoke first, his expression one of simple curiosity, made softer with the rosiness of his cheeks. 

“This may be a little forward, but are you alright?” Jihoon just stared at them in confusion, not bothering to answer.

“What Jeonghan means,” the other boy cut in, smiling sadly at Jihoon. He realized that the sadness that seeped into his expression made it a lot more believable than it had been back in the soup kitchen. “Is that we haven’t seen you before, and if you came in with Sanghoon that usually means you were running on your own. So, are you alright? Do you need any help?” Jihoon found himself speechless, his gaze flickering between the two. He couldn’t tell if they were offering charity or a trap, his mind reeling to try and sort through the information it had thrusted upon it. Jeonghan cleared his throat and started again, his voice soft and placating almost as though he were expecting Jihoon to flee.

“You look to be about our age, probably younger even, and the news has been warning of record colds and snow totals this season. This is really the worst time to be stranded.” Jihoon forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat, running his hands through his hair. He still wasn’t entirely sure what the boys were offering, but they seemed so genuine that he couldn’t find it in himself to walk away without responding.

“I’m new around here, yeah.” They blinked at him, expecting for him to continue just as simply. Instead his throat closed up, leaving him to stare silently at the pair. The unnamed one sighed. 

“Look,” he paused as if waiting for a name.

“Woozi.”

“Look Woozi,” he said with a soft look, the concern bleeding out of him like he was a fatal wound with no cauterization, appearing just as vulnerable as if that were true. “Do you have a place to go tonight?”

Jihoon felt himself pause. It seemed like these guys weren’t a threat and indeed were being kind, but the warning bells in his head wouldn’t stop ringing. He knew what he looked like, knew what kind of stature he had and how easy his limp body would be to transport. All these facts screamed from the recesses of his mind, and he found himself physically wincing from their deafening volume. Where were they when Runch and Gloss offered their couch, he wondered, watching as the pair went on damage control.

“You don’t have to go anywhere with us,” Jeonghan said, his voice still soft but carrying an undertone of urgency, “We just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t freeze to death tonight.” Jihoon shrugged.

“I have options,” he said planely, his eyebrows climbing on his forehead as they let out what looked to be matching sighs of relief. 

“I hope this isn’t too creepy-” The one with the earring began, Jeonghan smacking at him.

“We haven’t even introduced ourselves!” He hissed, the other blanching at the comment.

“Shit sorry, I’m Joshua Hong, that’s Yoon Jeonghan.” Jeonghan forced a smile, Joshua rubbing where Jeonghan had smacked him none too lightly. 

“We’re both in college. Second years, actually.” Jeonghan blinked at him, as if waiting for the same information. Jihoon huffed out a breath.

“I would be a first year.” Joshua lit up, turning to Jeonhan with a grin before turning back to Jihoon. 

“You’re the same age as some of our friends! If you need connections- not meaning like as a charity case of course!” Jihoon cocked his head at the shrill undertone of his voice, Joshua visibly forcing himself to calm down. “You said you’re new around here, right? So if you just need some  _ friends _ we know a few guys that are super outgoing. It sucks being in a city alone.” Jeonghan shook his head at his friend before addressing Jihoon once more.

“Idiot’s from America,” he ignored Joshua’s offended gasp. “He came out here on his own for school, so he really does mean it when he’s trying to offer you friends. Before I met him he was pretty sad and lonely.”

“Hey!” Joshua argued, and Jihoon found himself laughing despite everything. The pair grinned at him, seemingly excited that he could laugh with them. Jihoon took a deep breath, ignoring the searing cold in his lungs before looking at the pair.

“You swear it’s not a pity thing?” Joshua was shaking his head in an instant, Jeonghan almost gawking at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jihoon shrugged.

“People see a kid on the street and the only way they know how to handle it is with pity. It’s awful,” he said with an eye roll, ignoring the curious looks he was getting. “I’ve been managing longer than I care to admit, but people never change how they react to me. Just once I want someone to talk to  _ me  _ and not to a charity case.” Surprised by his own rant, Jihoon took in Jeonghan and Joshua’s matching looks of saddened consideration. 

“If you’ve been doing this for so long,” Joshua began softly, Jihoon already bracing for the harsh words he could feel coming, “You must be so lonely.” His eyes snapped to the other man, not prepared for the gentle show of compassion in the slightest. 

“We’re not kidding about the friends thing. No one deserves to be on their own, for whatever the reason.” Jihoon wasn’t entirely sure he believed that, but the ability to joke with people his own age again was something he hadn’t even realized he’d been craving. While he was still couch surfing until graduation, it was rather difficult for his peers to separate their feelings of pity from their normal feelings of friendship. Jihoon watched them all distance themselves, whether it be from guilt, shame, or even fear of the same thing happening to them, and he hadn’t ever fully grasped how lonely he was until this moment. 

Maybe, he thought, just maybe, a few friends would be worth it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can explain  
> i had to rewrite this entire chapter as well as replan the entire fic cuz i realized that we wouldnt meet seokmin in how i planned it till chapter 5 the earliest??? and that was with rushing shdjlahfdioas;  
> in other news this is poorly edited so my apologies for that, but hey an update is an update right? also the soup kitchen ji goes to is a real one, fun fact of the day. a lotta the time it took for this chap not only went into shit like reworkking the fic so we can meet seokmin next chap but also research uP the ass - i now know a lot more about homelessness both in my home country and in sk than i ever did before - which is what i love about writing these kinda fics  
> n e gay im not gonna even hazard a guess about nexxt chap cuz it may be a hot minute, but from what i have written soonyoung and wonwoo will be joining us!! (((hopefully seokmin too lolol)))  
> fair warning theres a great deal of angst we gotta get through before we reach our fluff so uh grab on tight its boutta get rocky eheheh


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